Two Front Teeth
by LisaT
Summary: In GoF, Hermione flees the dungeons after her teeth grow unexpectedly. Who gave her the idea to reduce her teeth further than they should have been?


_I don't know if I like this one or not. It's bugged me for weeks, so... I capitulated. It's obviously based on the incident in GoF, although I've slowed the rate of tooth-growth down a little. Still not convinced, but hey- it was fun to write and at least it's out of my hair! _

**_Please review. _**

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Hermione Granger ran away from the dungeons with adolescent awkwardness, all thin arms and long legs and uncharacteristically untidy robes that flapped and hitched and caught as she stumbled up the stairs towards the Fat Lady and the privacy of the Gryffindor common room. Lessons were still in progress and she did not expect to be prevented from reaching her goal.

Prevented she was, however.

She was on the final approach to the hole in the wall when she cannoned into someone. Hard. Startled, she glanced up to identify her victim, and was frozen with shock when she realised she'd run into her Head of House.

A Head of House who was looking grimmer by the second.

"I - I'm sorry, Professor!" Hermione's voice was slurred as she attempted to speak with her hands clasped firmly over her mouth.

Professor McGonagall eyed her over the top of her square spectacles and frowned. "I think you should come with me, Miss Granger." Without a further word, the tall witch turned and swept towards her office, leaving Hermione with no choice but to follow her folornly.

"Sit," Professor McGonagall commanded once they were safely in her office.

Hermione obeyed numbly, only faintly surprised that she'd been told to take the relatively comfortable chair beside the fire rather than the stiff backed wooden one that stood in front of Professor McGonagall's desk.

"Now," began her housemistress, "I should like an explanation, if you please, Miss Granger. Why are you wandering the corridors in this state when you should be in - let me see - ah, you should be in Potions, I believe?"

Hermione looked down at the hideous tartan rug that lay in front of the hearth and mumbled. Now that she was starting to recover from the shock of encountering Professor McGonagall like this, her earlier humiliation had returned, and, with it, her tears.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence broken only by Hermione's sniffs and the gentle crackling of the flames in the grate.

"Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall's voice was gentler now.

Hermione shook her head as she cried, her hands still clapped over her mouth. It was all just too much...

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall sounded firmer now, but the firmness was belied by the large handkerchief thrust into Hermione's hand, and a momentary touch on the shoulder. "Stop crying, Miss Granger, please. Something has obviously upset you. I can't do anything to help you unless you talk to me!"

McGonagall's tone was tart, but the concern under the tartness reached Hermione through the fog of misery she'd worked herself into, and she gave a final long sniff before wiping her eyes and handing the now rather bedraggled hankie back to its owner.

"I - I'm sorry, Professor," she stammered in a muffled and slurred voice, her eyes still firmly fixed on the rug. "It's all wet, I've ruined it- "

With an impatient wave of her wand, Professor McGonagall Transfigured the hankie into a brand new fresh one. "There, you see. It's no trouble. Now, will you_please_ tell me what has upset you like this?"

Slowly, Hermione dropped her hands, raised her head and looked at her housemistress. "L-look at my teeth! They're horrible. They're huge, and they were bad enough before..." Her head dropped again.

"Have you been hexed, Hermione?" McGonagall asked evenly.

Hermione looked up at her, startled by the use of her first name. "Draco Malfoy," she whispered as best she could through the abnormally long front teeth that stretched down towards her chin. "In Potions. Harry and Draco -"

Professor McGonagall cut her off with a swift motion. "Never mind, Hermione; I can guess the rest." She sighed and then straightened. "You'll need to go to the hospital wing to have your teeth reduced, I'm afraid. I can't do it here."

Hermione looked up at her with sudden hope in her eyes. "Reduced? Back to the way they were, you mean?"

Professor McGonagall held her gaze steadily. "Madam Pomfrey will need your assistance to perform the procedure correctly," she said evenly. "It will be up to you to tell her when to stop."

Hermione could not believe her ears. "It will?" she forced out. "I can fix my teeth with magic?"

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Indeed. We can't leave you like that, can we? Now come along, Miss Granger. I'll take you to Poppy. Time is of the essence in cases like these!"

Hermione followed the tall witch out of the office with a blissful expression on her face that contrasted very oddly with the teeth that had now almost reached her jawline.

Mentally, she blessed Harry and Draco for their little row. Hermione's father was fond of pointing out that things tended to work out in the end if you were patient. Certainly they'd worked out this time.

Hermione Granger was finally going to get the christmas present she'd wanted since her adult teeth had come through. She was going to get her two front teeth.

-end.


End file.
